aptain O'Brian was ejected from his sleeping chamber and fell to his knees as the emergency lights flashed. The ship's Intelligence Vocal Engine (I.V.E.) spoke to him. “Systems failure. Systems failure.” For a moment he knew nothing. His mind was empty, and the captain was unable to register the chaos around him.

It was a large room with three cryostasis cylinders made of glass, meant for crew member containment during deep-space shipping.

There was a sharp pain in his head, blinding him, and all at once his cognitive function was back. Everything strange and foreign a moment ago was now screaming oncoming destruction.

He stood up surveying the room; the other two crew members had not yet been released from their chambers.

“I.V.E., what's happening?” the captain asked, still trying to collect himself. 

“The course steering to the ship has malfunctioned.”

The Albatross-2 was the newest ship the fleet had to offer. Deep space shipping was not the most glamorous job, but it paid well. The only issue was if things went wrong, it was up to the crew to solve the problems.

“I.V.E., what is our current location?”

“My scanners have been damaged due to a problem with the outer hull. The sharp turns the ship is taking is threatening the structure.”

There was a hissing as the other two crew members were finally awake. Second Officer Raissa Bisset and Medical Science Officer Jung.

The ship dipped heavily and started to spin. The recently awakened crew members were ragdolled and crushed under loose equipment. The captain remembered his objective—to regain control of his vessel and safeguard the cargo. If he could reset the auto guidance panel, perhaps the problem could be fixed. Pulling himself up, O'Brian was about to make his way to the navigation’s deck when I.V.E.'s voice came over the intercom: “Brace for impact!”

But it was too late. The room began to spin. The centrifugal force flung him against the wall, leaving him helpless and unable to move. The ship began to break apart, and at last it exploded into pieces.

A silent destruction in space.

 

ithin his sleeping chamber, Medical Science Officer Jung woke to a burst of flames—the room around him on fire. He saw his fellow crew members burning. The cylinder's glass began to radiate the flames, and Jung felt the heat on his skin. 

His mind raced amidst the conflagration.

“I.V.E. Report!” He shouted.

“The ship's reactor has overheated, and Albatross-2 is suffering multiple fires.”

“Why haven't the anti-fire systems kicked in?”

“There has been a malfunction.”

“I.V.E., suck out the room's oxygen.”

The world behind the glass exploded into millions of objects springing to life as a hurricane choked the flames into ashen silence. The room was charred, and both Captain O'Brian and Second Officer Bisset lay burnt past recognition.

“I.V.E., open my chamber.”

“Error. Error. Error.”

He realized with a sickening fear, a cold rush of clarity, that the mechanisms to his door latch had melted. The doctor was trapped, and all he could do was pound his fists in a frenzy until at last the ship's core overheated. The Albatross erupted into fire, a bright orange blaze in the cosmos.

 

econd Officer Raissa Bisset fell from the sleeping chamber onto the metal floor, landing hard on her cheek.

Her mind was blinded by pain. Nothing. Then she remembered.

“Error, Error,” I.V.E. declared.

“What's wrong?” Raissa yelled.

“The Albatross-2 has suffered major damage due to an asteroid shower. The ship's midsection is cracked and is ready to split in two.”

Bisset ran to the emergency space suits. She dressed herself with efficiency—a crew of a cargo vessel in deep space is faced with all sorts of possibilities. She placed the helmet over her head. Both Captain O’Brian and Dr. Jung were still in sleep suspension. She hit the emergency wake-up button. Both fell out landing on the ground with a blank stare. None responsive.

“I.V.E., how long till the ship breaks apart?”

“An estimated five minutes till the hull's integrity is breached.”

She stuffed both men into the suits, took a cable and tied it round the captain's waist, and dragged him to a maintenance hatch. She repeated the same process with the doctor.

“I.V.E., I need to prepare the pods.”

“Cannot comply. Cannot comply.”

“What the hell’s happening?” questioned O’Brian, now out of his brain fog. He had just come to in time to see the Second Officer open the emergency hatch. Before he could protest, the crew were sucked out into space.

She ignited her pack and pulled the other two as far as she could. Her eyes were closed, waiting for the explosion. She forgot that there was no sound in space, only gravity and its fatal forces. For a moment she thought she had forgotten to open her eyes, but she realized she was witnessing space itself. Her comm crackled and the voice of O'Brian ripped through.

“What the hell just happened, Second Officer?”

“We flew through an asteroid shower.”

She turned to find them both still attached to the cable.

“You were unresponsive, so I made the call.”

“Thank you, Bisset,” said Medical Officer Jung.

O’Brian took charge. “Alright. Everyone activate your emergency beacons and we'll wait for a ship.”

They complied.

“Now what?” asked Bisset.

Dr. Jung's voice was steady.

“We wait and conserve air.”

 

he three floated in the void of space. There were no planets, no suns, only the living dark, a deep timeless existence. Nothing above, nothing below, all directions and sensations lost. The crew drifted in silence save for the sound of their breaths over the comms. Bisset told herself this was normal, but it was not normal—it was the ultimate stillness—unending and ever expanding darkness. Raissa could feel her insides and knew something was wrong, although she couldn’t understand what.

Without warning the forever silence, the evil quiet, found its way into her mind. She had to make it stop, had to beat it back somehow. 

Raissa began to scream—it was better than the quiet, all-consuming void. She flailed her arms and legs. Captain O'Brian used the cable to pull himself over to her.

“Shit, she's having a seizure!” he called to Jung.

She began to shake violently, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“I can see them!” she yelled. “Behind me! Inside of me! They are watching! They are us, we are nothing.”

No matter what they did, she wouldn't stop.

“Dr. Jung, what can we do for her?” O’Brian asked. Jung responded, but over Bisset's cries O’Brian could barely understand him.

“Nothing,” answered the doctor, his voice calm. “All we can do is hold her steady.” Eventually they let her be.

There was no ship connection, no AI to save them or use for information, only the low-tech function settings of the suits themselves.

The Captain looked to his utility optimizer on his suit’s wrist. He was momentarily blinded as the lights on his wrist control flickered and flashed back to life.

“This is Captain O'Brian, do you read? Come in,” said O’Brian.

There was static, then a voice blared out into their intercoms in response.

“Mayday! Mayday!”

A ship came into view, but it was not the rescue they had hoped for.

“Mayday! Mayday! This is Second Officer of Albatross-2, do you read me?”

“My God! I don't understand,” said the captain.

“How?” questioned Dr. Jung.

Bisset was quiet. In front of the stranded three, billowing smoke, was the Albatross-2.

Before anyone could respond to the distress call, the hull of the ship exploded.

The force sent them back, tumbling further and further away. They used the small rocket packs to correct course. Jung retrieved Bisset who had begun to regain consciousness, seemingly unharmed by her attack.

O’Brian was manic.

“We couldn't have seen what we just saw,” he said.

Bisset started to laugh. “Couldn't we? Look around us, I can't believe you haven't noticed it yet.”

“Notice what? Dammit, what?”

“I did,” answered the doctor. “I just didn’t want to frighten you anymore.”

“What?” O'Brian asked again.

“The debris.”

“From our ship?”

“Not just ours, there’s too much. This is more than one ship's worth of wreckage.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“I got something even better.” Bisset’s voice was thick with emotion “I can't remember anything. I know my name, my mission, and both of you, but nothing else.”

“You must be suffering from psychological trauma,” said Jung.

“What about you, Captain?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment.

“I… I can't... there's nothing before I woke up. She's right, Doc!”

He looked at her.

“I know the words I'm speaking and their meaning, but that's it. They feel hollow.”

She moaned.

“I feel hollow! And what worries me is... I don't remember if I've always felt this way or not.”

Doctor Jung interjected, “You’re both in shock. You need to remain calm and conserve air.”

“How about you? Do you remember, Doc?” she asked.

“Of course I do,” he answered, his tone flat, controlled.

“Hey, hey!” cried their Captain.

He heard the voice of I.V.E. over his com. The lights were flashing with connections, same as before.

“Hello... hello… do you read?” he said, trying to control the panic in his voice.

“Hello, who is on this channel?” said I.V.E.

“I.V.E., this is Captain O'Brian.”

The intercom sprang to life with the AI's familiar voice.

“Hello, Captain.”

“Wait!” interjected his Second Officer, but he ignored her. O'Brian undid their connecting cable and ignited his thrusters to where the signal was stronger.

“I.V.E, we need your help. We’re stranded and need evacuation and rescue.”

“But Captain, you are in the maintenance hull trying to fix the thrusters.”

From the void flashed and appeared instantaneously the hull of the ship, its massive hull struck and ripped through the body of O'Brian. It continued for a ways, then the familiar yellows and oranges and crimson of destruction colored and claimed the ship.

For a moment there was light in the unbelievable dark. Then, all at once, it was snuffed out and the cold black poured back into all senses.

 

♦

“Hey, Doc?” asked Bisset.

“Yes.”

“I'm sure you have some theories about all this. What do you think?”

He took a moment to mull over her question. 

“We could be in a loop stretching out for all infinity: ship crashing, us dying over and over. Maybe this is a place in the universe where all realities collide. Perhaps we were meant to die, and now because of this phenomena, we’re witnessing the demise of our alternate selves.”

“I have a more convincing theory, Doc.”

“And that is?”

“This is Hell.”

“I don't think Hell has oxygen.”

“What if space is Hell? In the absences of light darkness prevails.”

“Do you have any idea how outdated that notion is?”

“I've seen the same ship blow up over and over, so all notions are up for grabs.”

“If we don't speak we’ll conserve our air. If you're right, perhaps another ship will come, one that won't have a problem. Maybe we can get help.”

She folded her arms and gave in to his request.

They drifted, neither speaking, for every word cost a breath.

“The oxygen is almost out.” said Jung in a low whisper.

She closed her eyes, fixing her mind on something other than the endless, no thoughts other than the present circumstance. She opened her eyes, defeated. She decided to savor her last breaths to really enjoy the precious air—the most valuable commodity. What she wouldn’t trade just for one more minute of it, of life in general.

“Doc, can I hold your hand? I don't want to die alone.”

She reached out. He seemed to recoil but took it. The monitor beeped and the percentage read zero. She waited for the dark to wrap around her lungs and end it—however the end did not come.

She waited even longer but she was alive. Dr. Jung let go of her hand and fiddled with his monitor.

“Maybe the readings are wrong, maybe we still have more time.”

She was quiet.

Something was off, wrong, and subtle out of the corner of her subconscious.

“I don't think so, Doc. I think we're dead.”

“Stop that kind of talk, that's impossible!”

Another hour passed, and another, till there was the flash on their monitors and a flash of blinding brilliance, forcing back the cold hell. The Albatross-2 loomed in the foreground, their salvation.

Without prompting both ignited their packs, little flames jettisoning them towards the ship.

They clung to the ship's outer hull.

“I.V.E.! I.V.E. do you copy?”

The comm crackled.

“Who is this?”

“This is Dr. Jung. I need you to open the doors, Sub Section 58.”

“Your command will be executed momentarily.”

Raissa felt a strange sensation in her head as the pain from before threatened to return.

“Maybe we shouldn't,” she warned. The Medical Officer looked at her with agitation.

“If we don't, we die.”

The mechanism of the door clicked, groaned, then opened.

“Let's leave it open,” she pleaded.

“Are you insane?”

“I can't explain it, but it feels like if I enter that door, and close it, I'll die.”

Dr. Jung was irritated but he agreed. They entered the ship.

They opened the hatch and hurried in. The halls were the same, the lights, the sounds the same as the ship she had abandoned.

All was still and calm like a tomb. Red lights began to flash, and I.V.E.’s voice came through all speakers. 

“Alert, alert! Danger, Danger! Radiation leak in progress.”

Raissa felt a pressure push to the back of her skull. It was the cold metal of a gun.

“Don't move.”

The voice was O’Brian’s. He looked to Jung, surprised.

“What the hell, man? You were just behind me.”

In answer to his question the other doctor came up from behind.

“Listen, we need to all just calm down and hurry,” said the first Jung.

“Shut up. Shut up!” commanded O'Brian 

Raissa looked to the original doctor.

“What do we do?”

Jung took a breath, then swiftly charged at O’Brian, tackling him. The gun fell in a mess of grasping fingers. The doctor dove, taking the weapon as his own. O'Brian retaliated. Both men struggled for control. The gun fired multiple times in random directions. Raissa rolled out of the way of stray shots.

“Enough of this!” yelled the second Jung, interrupting. “We’re men, so let’s act like men!”

The gun fired. Both men stopped, realizing the shot had hit the second Jung in the stomach. O’Brian let go of the gun.

“Damn!" shouted O'Brian. He looked to the man he’d just been struggling with.

“Is there anything you can do?”

The second doctor spasmed violently, jerking hard to the left, then right until he went rigid. His limbs were locked in a horrid, twisted fashion. His stomach began to billow smoke. The original doctor stood over him with an intense look on his face. He knelt and groaned.

“Oh no!” Jung stood motionless, staring down over at himself. “Oh no, no, no. I'm real. I know I am. I'm me.”

Bisset took a step towards him. “What is it?” She couldn't tell if he ignored the question or was unable to hear.

“No, no, no, no, n—ha ha ha ha ha.” He raised the gun at the other O’Brian. “I'm me.”

The gun went off again and the other O'Brian went down, smoke gushing from his chest. Without looking, the frenzied doctor aimed the gun at Bisset.

She raised her hands.

“Jung, you’re scaring me...what is it?”

“Remember how I said I remembered life before the ship?”

“Yes”

“I lied!”

He dropped the weapon, took off his suit, and he began ripping the fabric of his sleeve. He dug his fingernails into his skin and pulled, staring at his flesh.

“No blood!”

The skin came off in strips, revealing not tendons nor bone, but metal and wire. He looked at his arm in horror and screamed.

He violently ripped and clawed at his face till the mechanical bits were exposed. The face of Dr. Jung gave way to a cold, lifeless thing hiding underneath.

He turned to her, his human eyes still staring at her, but they were blank. He gouged them out. Still he looked at her.

“What's underneath your skin?”

He began moving towards her.

“Listen, I don't know what you are, but please—please stay back!”

The metal under his skin reflected the light of the ship. It tilted its head.

“What are we?”

She looked at the dead crew members.

“Doc, we might be like I.V.E. I think we might be Androids!”

“Why!?” asked the thing.

“The hell I if know!”

“You're taking this a bit too well!”

“Nothing I've experienced has been normal so far.”

“You may be an Android, but I'm not! I'm human, do you understand?”

The android under the doctor's skin was in denial.

“I'm going to put you on a table, open you up, and get to the bottom of this!” it snarled.

The two struggled in the hallway. The android pinned her down and punched her in the face over and over, then grasped her by the hair.

“I'll take you apart piece by piece and find out what you are!”

“I.V.E.!” Raissas screamed.

“Yes, Second Officer Bisset?” I.V.E. responded.

“Disengage gravity!”

The ground beneath her disappeared. The mad android lost its balance and floated up, and she kicked it. He spun out of control hitting the ship ceiling.

“I.V.E., re-engage gravity!”

Raissas landed on her feet.

I.V.E. spoke over her head.

“Warning, warning! Ship’s systems sense a malfunction.”

She rushed down towards the maintenance exit. It was still open.

“Come back! You damned thing! What are you?”

She could hear his voice, and she had a choice.

You don't need air, she reminded herself.

She reached the service hatch and closed it behind her. The half face looked through the glass, glaring at her. Bisset hit the release, felt the rush of air, then silence. 

The ship was in flames, and the force sent her hurtling her into the dark expanse. She felt a rumble in her chest, a splitting pain in her skull. Once more she saw the ones who were watching her earlier: three men in a room full of cold light and many screens. She could hear sounds which then became words. They were speaking to one another, and she could understand them.

 

hree men stood in a room full of monitors, watching the many outcomes of the tests they were orchestrating. They were the ones who’d hit the kill switch which caused the Albatross-2's implosion. They had started fires and meltdowns and malfunctions on ship after ship. They tested the as-of-yet unreleased ship for safety measures, pushing the limits of its durability, and with it, a fake crew.

Whitney, a heavy-set man, stared, lips quivering. His cigarette hung limp in his mouth.

“What do we do?” he asked.

The other two looked at him.

“What do you mean?” asked Ryan, another tech. His eyes were magnified by his large glasses, a feature that would have been comical if his gaze weren’t so unsettling.

“What I mean is, the Androids have never done that before. They stayed active even after the ship went offline.”

“So what? We got a glitchy batch. We have hundreds more to test the crafts with.”

“That wasn't my program, that was a unique emotional response. They essentially came to life. What do we do?”

“We do nothing.”

“Agreed,” said Conner. He was a big, well-built man, one of the few who liked his body to match his brain.

“What, you too? We need to report this.”

“To who?” the big man retorted. He walked over to Whitney.

“They became sentient. We just witnessed a miracle in robotics!”

“Bullshit, Whitney! You're losing your nerve. Just because they look like us doesn’t make them us. They’re machines, they don't feel pain like we do. Their skin and organs are synthetic, and they collect data. They scan for us so we can report the outcome.”

“This is different!” said Whitney. “I'm going to the board.” 

Conner placed a heavy hand on Whitney.

“No you won’t. I am not going to file a load of useless paperwork and halt the testing just because you think one of our test dummies got feelings!” He growled, his grip on the man's shoulder tightened. Ryan joined alongside the big man. He took a heavy drag on his cigarette

“Besides," he said, readjusting his glasses. “That one's lost anyways.” 

“It's just…Ryan...” said Whitney.

“What?”

“They were screaming—she was screaming.”

“So?”

“So I didn't program that kind of reaction.”

Ryan snorted out smoke and indignation.

“Like I give a shit if my toaster makes a funny noise. What matters is the company whose ship we’re testing. What matters is that we provide enough evidence that it's safe and ready for market. Our job is to test the outcome, not make the dummies comfortable.”

Whitney stood, clenching his fists in anger. He pulled away from Conner, knocking his chair over.

“What matters," said Whitney, “is that the woman was screaming!"

Conner rolled his eyes.

“So what if they start becoming like us?" The big man cracked his knuckles. “If that's the case, and we were the first to witness the birth of robotic emotions, then we won't be the last. I say let someone else do the paperwork. Let’s delay the revolution a little longer and just get on with our shift. If you're right, there’ll be others like her. Please, for the love of God.”

Conner picked up his chair.

“Have a seat, and let's erase that data from the last test.”

Whitney hung his head, his cigarette gone out along with his resolve. He yielded and hit the erase keystroke.

♦

She heard their words, speechless. Horror seized her. 

She wasn't real! Nothing was real! 

She spun, she tumbled, she hurtled into the endless expanse. No helmet, no air, yet she lived—or did she? The ship was gone. O'Brian and Dr. Jung and the android inside him destroyed. Her mouth opened, wailing in perpetual terror, yet nothing came, no sound followed, the void consumed her screams. Fear consumed Bisset’s being. The constructs of time withered and died. She drifted for a moment, a month, a century, it didn’t matter—she would never tire, never age, nor die. As humanity lived in the light of the sun, she was forever drowning in the dark, forever screaming.

A machine, lost.